Marie-Celeste!” gasped Ted, letting his book fall from his hands.
“Cousin Ted!” gasped Marie-Celeste; and flop went the cup-custard over on one side, and then rolled off of the tray altogether. Perhaps you think gasped is a pretty strong word; but when you are fairly taken off your feet with surprise, you can't for the very first moment do much better with words than gasp them.
“Where did you come from, Marie-Celeste?” Ted demanded almost roughly, and as though she had no right in the world to come from any place whatsoever.
“How do you come to be here, Cousin Theodore?” parrying question with question, and drawing her little figure to its full height, in resentment of the tone in which Ted had spoken.
“Oh, you need not make any pretence,” Ted said sarcastically. “Donald has been mean enough to go back on me, and you know all there is to tell. I can see through the whole thing, cup-custard, sponge-cake and all, and Harold 'll be down here in a moment to help lord it over the prodigal.”
“What do you mean. Ted?” for she really did not understand all he said. “Donald hasn't told me anything, nor Harold, nor anybody. They've all gone off to see some cows somewhere, and Mrs. Hartley asked me if I would not take this little tray down to Mr. Morris, the gentleman who had met with the accident,” and Marie-Celeste gave a comprehensive glance through the little orchard, as though still expecting to discover the real object of her search under some neighboring tree.
“I am the gentleman who met with the accident,” said Ted, smiling in spite of himself, “and my name is supposed to be Morris.”
The smile relieved matters somewhat, and Marie-Celeste, setting the little tray on the ground, picked up the cup-custard, which had suffered nothing by its fall, and putting it back in its place on the tray, took a seat in the corner of the rug, to which Ted motioned her, and then clasping her two hands round her knees, asked in a tone of most earnest inquiry, “Now tell me, Cousin Theodore, why do you do things like this?”
“You mean, why do I let myself be thrown out of my trap in a runaway accident, and then be foolish enough to let myself be almost killed into the bargain?”
“Have you really had an accident, Ted?” with a solicitude that went straight to Ted's heart.